Stubborn
by Millipher Steerus
Summary: When the boss is in one of his moods and is hurt quite bad, Jonny Frost knows there's only one person who can get him to see sense and reason. Even if she's as mad as him and just as stubborn.


Jonny Frost knew that there was only one person who could solve this particular problem, Harley Quinn. When the boss was in this kind of mood there was no reasoning with him.

He found her in the apartment above the co owned club 'Grin and Bare it.' Harley was sat crossed legged in front of a full length mirror which was more broken than whole, applying mascara to her eyelashes. She looked up upon his arrival and several eyes all met his in the mirror within the various broken shards.

"How's it hangin' Frosty?" She asked chirpily and then frowned when she noticed his expression. "You're looking awfully down Mista," she swung around to face him fully, head cocked to one side. "Where's puddin?" She asked.

"There was an incident," Jonny replied, knowing that she always preferred a direct response. She was uncannily good at reading people and always preferred someone who was straight up honest.

"Is J alright?"

"He's been shot," as soon as the words had left his mouth Harley was on her feet and storming towards the door. "He's refusing to see a doctor and it's pretty bad, you need to talk some sense into him," Jonny continued, following her out of the door.

"Where is he?" She asked.

"At the bar." She ran down the stairs, her bare feet slapping on the wood as she made a beeline for the club.

Joker was exactly where Jonny had left him, on a barstool, leaning against the bar for support, one hand pressed into his side and the other holding a scotch on the rocks. The dim lights above the bar elongated the shadows under his eyes and picked out the deep red blood stain on his white shirt. If it wasn't for the slight movement of his left hand, swirling the scotch in the glass, Jonny would have easily assumed he was looking at a corpse.

"Puddin!" Harley was across the room in an instant, her hands cupping his face.

"Harls," he purred, "be a pal and tell one of these bozos to get this bullet out of me."

Harley turned to meet Jonny, who shook his head. "It's too dangerous. Might have hit an organ or worse. It could be that the bullets the only thing holding him together right now. He needs a doctor."

The Joker growled in anger, twisting his neck in annoyance. "No Doctors," he bit out.

"Puddin," Harley began, "Frost knows what he's sayin', and you've already lost a mighty amount of blood." She grasped his right hand lightly and pulled it away from the bloodstain on his side. "This looks real bad." She then whipped a towel off the bar and pressed it into the wound. The Joker growled again and tilted his head up to the ceiling, the tendons in his neck stretching and his shoulders rolling, as if he was trying to shake off the pain.

"A little warning would have been nice," Joker bit out, his grills flashing silver in the light and his eyes snapping to Harley's face.

"I don't want you bleeding out," Harley said. "You've already ruined your favourite suit."

This at least cracked a smile from the Joker and a slight laugh whilst Harley poked a finger through the hole in his jacket.

"How'd it happen?" Harley asked.

"A hostage decided to play hero." The Joker responded. "They weren't searched properly for firearms," his eyes fixed on Jonny.

"It's the new kids fault," Jonny responded, "he's downstairs with the rest of the lads. I doubt he'll last the night."

"And the guy who shot ya?" Harley asked.

"Dead," the Joker responded.

"The lads turned on him as soon as Joker went down," Jonny explained.

The Joker took a swig of Scotch, wincing as the movement of his arm pulled at his wound.

Harley, her eyes filled with concern, turned to Jonny. "Call the doctor," she said.

There was a loud smash as the Joker threw his glass onto the floor. "No Jonny, don't!" His blue eyes burned into Harley.

"If you don't see someone soon you ain't gonna be around to tell anyone what to do anymore!" Harley backhanded, her hands on her hips and her eyes flaring.

"You can be so Vexing," the Joker ground out. He rolled his neck again, a sure sign of annoyance and discomfort. Jonny was pretty surprised he was still conscious, he'd seen many a man bleed out from a bullet wound to the gut, and most wouldn't still be going. "I just need Jonny to dig this bullet out of me," he growled.

"Well Jonny ain't gonna do it!"

Jonny felt like he should maybe point out that he was more than capable of thinking for himself, but then thought better about intervening. He did after all agree with Harley. He wasn't qualified to remove such a bullet and didn't want the Kings death to hang over his head when it inevitably went wrong. Digging bullets out of arms and shoulders and sealing them with a heated knife was a completely different ball game. What they had here, this was serious. If only Joker could see that.

"Jonny will do as i say!" The Joker pushed himself up off the barstool, his eyes flashing like sheets of ice at Harley. He took a step towards her and then everything shifted. It was like watching a stack of cards fall. At first it was small, his jaw tightening and his hand pressing into his wound that little more, and then he swayed and folded forwards, rushing to meet the ground.

Harley was there in a flash, grabbing him by the shoulders and steadying him. Jonny quickly joined her and together they managed to guide him back onto the barstool.

Once satisfied he was relatively stable Harley turned to Jonny, "call the doc," she said.

The Joker snarled but Harley beat him to whatever retort he was about to give. "You'd be lying on the floor passed out right now if we hadn't caught you. You need a doc, and i ain't going to be responsible for your death just because you were being a stubborn ass."

Jonny waited for the Joker to snap but it never came. Instead a slow smile appeared on his face and he started to laugh. "You're so sexy when you're bossy," he said, grinning at her.

"Is that why ya won't listen to me Mr J?" She asked, one hand on hip. The Joker merely laughed some more.

Taking that as all the permission he needed Jonny got his phone out and crossed the room to make the call to the doctor. When Gotham's crime lords and mob bosses were in need of a doctor there was only one man who was trusted enough to be discreet and professional. He went by the name of Doctor X, not wanting to reveal his real name to his more untrustworthy clients. It was a decision that Jonny respected. After all, they needed someone who wasn't careless or stupid in this sort of situation.

"He'll be here in ten," Jonny said, pocketing his phone moments later.

Harley had fixed the Joker with another drink, this one with an added paper umbrella. Jonny had to work at hiding his smile when the Joker flicked it out of his drink as soon as Harley turned her back. He downed the drink in one smooth motion and dropped the glass, letting it crash onto the floor. Harley squeaked and jumped at the noise. "We're gonna run out of glasses if you carry on Puddin'."

"There's plenty of glass in the world," he drawled. He'd sunk down into the barstool, his head low on his chest, and Jonny was wondering how long it was going to take before he passed out properly.

Harley it seemed was already on the case though. "Stay with me Puddin'," she said, cupping his face with her hands, her thumbs dusting over his cheekbones. The Joker pushed himself up a little, his jaw clenching in obvious pain.

Harley then pulled the Jokers left hand away from his side and replaced it with her own, holding the towel tight against his wound. The Joker hissed through his teeth. "You weren't applying enough pressure," Harley explained. He rolled his neck again and gave a small grunt. "At this rate you'll have finished me off before the doc gets here," he muttered, this being the first admission that he was in any pain.

"I'm the only one holding you together at the moment," Harley rebutted. "Well," she shrugged, "me and Frosty."

The doctor arrived shortly afterwards and the Joker was finally able to get the medical attention he needed. After making sure he was stable they moved him upstairs to the apartment where the doctor was able to attend to him properly.

Jonny stayed downstairs and started up a game of cards with the other henchmen, who were all looking a little lost and jumpy at their boss being so seriously injured. If the Joker died the word would get out fast, and then it would be a mad scrabble between the other criminals of Gotham to take over what the Joker had left behind. If you were a henchman you didn't want to get caught up in that mess. The card game was a good distraction and seemed to lower tempers a little whilst they waited for news.

Forty five minutes later Harley appeared and made a beeline for Jonny. "He's gunna be fine," she said. "Doc fixed him up and he'll be right as rain by the end of the week." She then enveloped him in a big hug, "thanks for getting me," she said and then with a quick peck on his cheek she skipped off back upstairs, not wanting to be too far from the Joker any more.


End file.
